The city beyond Origin Academy was alive in a way the village never could be. Cobblestone streets twisted into marketplaces, alleys, and training grounds, crowded with people of all shapes, sizes, and purposes. Merchants hawked goods from distant lands; adventurers strutted past, blades slung over shoulders, spells flickering faintly at fingertips. And above it all, banners of the Guilds flapped in the breeze—symbols of power, prestige, and opportunity.
Zeryth Malakar walked among them as if he belonged everywhere and nowhere. His small, ten-year-old body—now twelve—moved with measured precision, eyes observing. Every passerby, every guild sign, every whispering street vendor was cataloged. Names, traits, potential influence. Nothing escaped his attention.
This was a different battlefield. Not the controlled halls of the Academy, not the dueling arenas. Here, power mingled with politics, opportunity intertwined with risk. And Zeryth had already calculated the first moves.
The Azure Crescent Guild, chosen after careful research, was one of the continent's premier adventurer organizations. Known for its mix of combat, reconnaissance, and arcane research, it attracted young prodigies and seasoned veterans alike. Its headquarters rose like a fortress of stone and steel, banners depicting a silver crescent on a deep blue field.
Zeryth's entrance did not go unnoticed. The guards assessed him, pausing at the sight of his calm, unreadable expression. He carried no weapons. No flair. Yet there was a subtle aura—a confidence that belonged to someone who understood far more than he should.
A middle-aged guild receptionist, her hair streaked with silver and eyes sharp as a hawk, looked him over.
"You're here for the initiation trial?" she asked.
Zeryth inclined his head. "Yes. I seek a position in your guild. Full compliance with rules and protocol is guaranteed."
She raised an eyebrow. "You're twelve."
"I am twelve," he said simply. "And ready."
The woman glanced at the guild master, who nodded subtly. "Bring him in," she said. "Let's see if he belongs among our ranks."
Inside the guild, Zeryth was led to the Hall of Trials, a vast chamber filled with training dummies, elemental simulations, and observation platforms. Young recruits were already present, warming up or casting spells. He cataloged each face, each stance, each potential strength or weakness.
He spotted a tall, muscular boy practicing sword techniques—an obvious candidate for later observation. A girl with a slender frame conjured water into sharp, coiling spears, her focus impressive. He noted her precision. Another, a boy half-hidden in shadows, manipulated a small flame, eyes scanning the room as if analyzing others.
Every movement, every choice, every display of skill became part of his mental map. Patterns, tendencies, and potential leverage points were cataloged.
The trial itself was simple on the surface: a dungeon simulation. Recruits had to navigate a series of rooms filled with traps, minor monsters, and elemental hazards. Points were awarded for efficiency, teamwork, and control.
Zeryth stepped forward, his presence calm, commanding without a word.
The first room was filled with elemental traps—fire jets, gusting winds, and water spouts. He moved through them with an elegant precision, dodging and weaving, not merely avoiding damage but subtly guiding the hazards into harmless patterns. A burst of wind redirected a flame away from a smaller student. A water spout was split and cooled against the walls with a precise movement of air.
The instructors murmured. This level of coordination was beyond even seasoned recruits.
In the second room, monsters—wolves and smaller magical creatures—appeared. Zeryth's movements were fluid; he didn't attack indiscriminately. Instead, he used controlled elemental manipulations to corral, redirect, and subdue without unnecessary risk. Flames, water, wind, and earth moved in harmony, and yet no bystander would suspect the full breadth of his integrated powers.
Other students began to notice him.
"Follow the left corridor!" he suggested casually to a struggling pair, pointing with a finger. They obeyed, thinking it a helpful hint, but he had subtly guided them into a safer path while maximizing efficiency for himself.
He observed responses, rewarding compliance subtly: a nod here, a smile there. Those who resisted were quietly corrected through environmental cues—shifting debris, redirected elemental flows—never revealing the true power behind the guidance.
By the final room, Zeryth had not only completed the trial flawlessly but had done so while orchestrating the actions of half the participants without their awareness.
The guild elders leaned forward, exchanging glances. One whispered, "He doesn't just excel… he controls the environment itself."
Another shook his head. "Unnatural for a twelve-year-old."
After the trial, Zeryth stood before the guild master, a woman of commanding presence, her eyes sharp and calculating.
"You have shown impressive skill, young Malakar," she said. "Not just combat aptitude, but awareness and subtle control beyond your years. We will place you in our ranks as a full recruit."
Zeryth inclined his head. "I am honored to serve."
Without fanfare, he was led to the Guild Hall of Records, where his rank, responsibilities, and initial missions were logged. His points for the trial were recorded as "exceptional", placing him at the top among his age cohort.
Zeryth spent the rest of the day walking through the guild's common areas, subtly observing and interacting. He identified future pawns: a mage with strong offensive abilities but poor strategic sense, a rogue with curiosity and ambition that could be leveraged, and a blacksmith's apprentice whose loyalty could be quietly bought.
He exchanged brief words with Malrik and Isolde, who had accompanied him for observation purposes. Malrik's fire still impressed him, and Isolde's water skills were useful, but both were still far below the level of control he exhibited. Their admiration and reliance were noted, mental threads of influence recorded for later.
As night fell, the city lights reflected off the guild headquarters' towers. Students and adventurers laughed in taverns, planning future missions, while guild masters reviewed reports. Zeryth returned to his quarters, quiet, observant, already mapping out his next steps.
He had integrated the environment of the guild into his mental map, cataloged allies and pawns, and understood the hierarchy of influence. The trial had demonstrated skill and leadership without revealing the full extent of his abilities, keeping his true potential hidden from those who might fear or challenge him.
The continent outside Origin Academy stretched wide, full of guilds, monsters, and opportunities. And Zeryth Malakar—twelve, masterful, patient—had taken the first calculated step into this larger world.